


Promises Kept

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: Criminal Intent, Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Kevin Mulrooney and Johnny Dubcek have managed to find a shred of redemption, in each other.
Relationships: Kevin Mulrooney/Johnny Dubcek
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	Promises Kept

Kevin Mulrooney walked through the gates with his chin up and his expression blank, dressed in a suit he’d last worn a whole decade earlier. He managed a ghost of his old swagger—as much as the injuries would allow, and as much as his muscles could remember—but inside his thin body his stomach was clenched tight and his heart was racing like that of a cornered jackrabbit.

He had nothing, no belongings aside from the suit hanging a little loosely on his frame, but he wasn’t penniless. He had a bank account, savings, a little inheritance. The concept seemed foreign, though, something from a different lifetime, a different reality.

The world was bright—the sky overhead was a brilliant, cloudless blue, painful to behold.

He was glad to be free, of course he was. But the life he’d known was gone, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with himself, where he was supposed to go. He had no family, no friends—

_He’ll be here_.

He shoved the thought away before it could take root. He couldn’t expect that, couldn’t depend on a sliver of false hope. It had been six months—the worst six months of his life, even worse than the first few years of lockup when he’d been without an ally and had opened his eyes every day wondering if it would be his last; the final six months had been worse because he’d known what he was missing.

He didn’t have a cell phone and he had no one to call, anyway. He didn’t want the guards to see him standing outside the gates, waiting like a loser for a ride that would never arrive, so he forced his feet to keep walking. He didn’t know where he was going—a motel, someplace he could hole up and regroup, make some plans.

His steps faltered when a car pulled up beside him, and cold fear slithered through his gut.

“Sorry I’m late, I got held up at work, I tried to tell ‘em—” The man was talking a mile a minute as he bolted out of the backseat of the taxi, all gangly limbs and floppy hair.

“Johnny?” Kevin blurted, the name tumbling off his tongue unbidden.

Johnny Dubcek drew up short, wincing at the sight of Kevin’s blackened eye—the most visible, though nowhere near worst, parting gift from the guards. “You, uh. You okay?” he asked, fidgeting nervously as he glanced toward the prison gates. He looked like he wanted to flee, and Kevin couldn’t blame him for that. After six months out, he was sure Johnny had no desire to go back in.

“Sure,” Kevin answered. He didn’t want to admit how good it was to see Johnny, didn’t want to feel the relief that had begun to loosen some of the knots in his stomach. It was far too early for that.

“Well.” Johnny stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coveralls. “Sorry I’m late,” he repeated.

“That’s okay, I didn’t know if you’d be here,” Kevin admitted. He cursed himself as an asshole, but Johnny didn’t seem upset by the words.

“Course I am,” was his only response. Then: “If you don’t got nowhere else to be, I got a roast in the crockpot.”

Kevin blinked, feeling like he was three steps behind with no hope of ever catching up. There was a time when he’d been confident of always being the smartest person in any room, but those days were long past. Now his education and former career meant nothing. Johnny was the one with a job, a place to stay.

“A roast?” His stomach rumbled at the thought of homecooked food.

“Yeah, I went home on my break and added potatoes n’ carrots and some celery, I know you don’t like onions…” He trailed off and glanced back toward the cab. “Look, if you got errands or anything we can go but the meter’s runnin’…”

“Right, of course,” Kevin said, mustering all the outward confidence he could manage as he stepped toward the open door of the taxi. He climbed into the car, ignoring the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror, and started to slide over. Before he could get out of the way, however, Johnny closed the door.

Kevin felt a flare of white-hot panic, sudden and overwhelming. It was a trap, maybe a joke, and he’d played right into—

Johnny had already jogged around the back of the cab and opened the other door, and he folded himself in beside Kevin with a quick, lopsided, shy smile. Kevin swallowed several times, keeping his hands balled into fists so Johnny wouldn’t see their tremors. He hated himself for doubting Johnny’s intentions, even for a moment.

“You got any errands?”

Kevin shook his head, staring at the seatback in front of himself because all he wanted to do was stare at Johnny. He looked good. Freedom seemed to agree with him. His hair was messy but clean, and his face was unbruised. His fingernails were still chewed to the quick.

“Okay, well just let me know if you wanna stop anywhere. I got you some stuff, but if you need—”

“Stuff?” Kevin interrupted, looking sideways at him.

“Yeah, toothbrush and—and some clothes n’ stuff. Don’t expect too much,” he added with a nervous laugh, plucking at the legs of his coveralls. “Place is the size of a shoebox, y’know. But…” He shrugged a shoulder, and Kevin understood the meaning buried in the verbal ellipsis. Even a shoebox was a chance at a life.

“Thanks for…picking me up,” Kevin muttered. He couldn’t say more, not with the taxi driver listening, not when Kevin still wasn’t sure what Johnny wanted or expected from him. They’d talked about so many things, fantasizing about a grand life that they’d both known was a fairytale, but Kevin had known all along that Johnny was humoring him. They’d formed an alliance out of necessity, and Kevin knew he never would’ve survived his sentence if Johnny hadn’t fallen into his life.

But all their talk of the future had been talk and nothing more. Johnny had already had six months to work toward starting his life over anew and there was no way he’d spent that time waiting for Kevin to join him. Johnny was a good guy. Despite the things he’d done to land himself in prison, Johnny Dubcek was one of the best guys Kevin had ever known, in fact, and it certainly wasn’t Johnny’s responsibility to deal with the fact that Kevin had fallen hopelessly in love with him.

“Course,” Johnny said. He lifted a hand, his fingers reaching toward Kevin’s, and Kevin swallowed hard. Johnny dropped his hand back to his own leg without touching him, though, and said, “I promised I would.”

“I know.” Kevin looked out his window so the shine of his eyes wouldn’t betray him. Johnny wasn’t a man who would break a promise—even one made to a murderer—but that’s all this was. A promise kept, a helping hand. Kevin would accept the help gratefully, and he would never be anything _but_ grateful for Johnny.

They lapsed into silence. Kevin didn’t ask how far they were going. He watched out his window. He could feel Johnny shooting him occasional looks, but he didn’t dare return the glances.

“There ain’t no doorman or anythin’ fancy like you’re used to,” Johnny said when the taxi pulled up in front of a rundown brick apartment building.

Kevin finally turned his head to meet Johnny’s earnest, apologetic gaze. “Like I’m used to?”

Johnny shifted in his seat. “From before, I mean.” He unzipped the front of his coveralls halfway down his chest, revealing a white t-shirt beneath, and reached a hand in to fish a wallet from an inside pocket. “But nobody’s gonna tell you when you can come n’ go, or watch you take a shit,” he added as he pulled out cash for the driver, and there was a bitter edge to his voice. “So there’s that.”

“There is that,” Kevin muttered in agreement, promising himself he would pay Johnny back for every kindness as Johnny told the driver to keep the change. Kevin opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, careful not to make eye contact with any of the people walking past. He was sure they could tell by looking at him, or they could smell it on him.

“It’ll start to feel normal again,” Johnny said beside him, startling him. “Promise.” He started toward the door, and Kevin trailed him automatically. “Elevator’s busted and we’re on the seventh floor,” Johnny said, pulling open the door and holding it for Kevin to pass. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He glanced down the length of Kevin’s body. “How bad’re you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Kevin said, eyeing the stairs doubtfully. He started up, not wanting to worry Johnny with any hesitation. “You came and walked up all these stairs on your break just to add vegetables to a crockpot?”

“Oh, well,” Johnny answered, easily syncing his steps to Kevin’s, “you can’t add that stuff too early but I wanted to make sure to have something ready for you.”

Kevin glanced at him and managed a smile, small but genuine. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I gotta say this.” Johnny put a hand on Kevin’s arm, stopping him, but quickly drew the hand back as soon as Kevin looked at him. “I’m real sorry I didn’t come see you these months, Kev.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it ain’t. I just…I just couldn’t do it, I couldn’t walk back in there and—and I couldn’t see what was happening to you knowing I couldn’t do anything to help you. I just—I just couldn’t, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Kevin repeated, alarmed by Johnny’s guilt and agitation. “Seriously. I get it.” He started to climb again, and Johnny kept pace. “You don’t owe me—or anyone—anything, Johnny.”

Johnny didn’t answer, and they ascended in silence. The stairwell was hot, and sweat was soaking the back of Kevin’s shirt inside his suit, pooling at his lower back. His hair was stuck to his forehead. His shoes hurt his feet after being unworn for so many years, but that pain was secondary to other aches.

“I missed you,” Johnny said quietly. They’d finally reached the seventh floor, and he reached for the door to open it but hesitated with his fingers on the handle. “A lot,” he added when Kevin met his eyes. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, I just wanted you to know.”

Kevin gathered his courage. “I’ve never been uncomfortable with you,” he said, and he was rewarded with a sweet, pleased smile bracketed by deep dimples. “You know everything about me,” he added, which was true. He’d told Johnny things he’d never told another person, and Johnny had never shied away from even the ugliest confessions.

“Same,” Johnny murmured, his smile taking on a sad tilt that Kevin didn’t like. It was true, he knew all of Johnny’s darkest secrets, too. “Come on.” Johnny opened the door and followed Kevin through. “I wanna get out of these clothes, but you can take a shower first if you want.”

Kevin didn’t answer. If Johnny wanted sex, oral or otherwise, Kevin would oblige. He didn’t have anything else to offer, and he knew Johnny would never hurt him. He never had, and he never would. At least not intentionally.

Kevin’s stomach grumbled at the smell of pot roast as soon as he stepped into the tiny apartment, and the cool breeze from the rattling air conditioner in the window was a relief against his sweaty skin.

“Sorry it’s so small,” Johnny said. “Once I get some more money saved up we can find a bigger place.” He tossed his keys onto a table that was barely big enough for the two straight-backed chairs cozied up to it. “Least this is close to work. But the neighborhood, it ain’t so great. I promise it’s just for now. And, uh, I’ll sleep on the couch if you want.”

Kevin looked at the couch. “That’s a loveseat,” he said. “There’s no way your legs would fit.”

“I don’t mind. There’s just the one bed, and I didn’t know—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “Bathroom’s right here if you want a shower. I got you some clothes, but…I wasn’t sure what you’d want so I just picked up a mix.”

“You want to find a place…together?”

Johnny chewed his lower lip for a moment, looking uncertain. “That’s what we always talked about…” he finally said slowly. “But if you don’t feel like that anymore—”

“What do you think…I mean, what is this to you?”

“What is what?” Johnny asked, his forehead crinkling in concern.

“All of this. Me, you.”

Johnny looked around. “I’m not as smart as you, and I can’t give you all the stuff you deserve. But…I’ll take care of you, Kev, if you let me.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me,” Kevin answered, sharper than intended, alarmed to feel tears burning his eyes.

For a moment Johnny looked slightly crestfallen, and then the emotion was hidden away. “Yeah, I know that. I just, um. I mean, I love you, y’know. I wanna take care of you—Are you okay?” he asked as Kevin walked over and sank onto the loveseat.

Kevin looked up at him, afraid to believe. “You want to…” he mumbled, but he couldn’t finish.

Johnny moved toward the small sofa cautiously, searching Kevin’s face for signs of discomfort before carefully sitting beside him. “I guess I hoped we’d sorta take care of each other. Maybe some of the stuff we talked about won’t ever happen, but…” He reached out a tentative hand and settled it onto Kevin’s leg. “The only thing that kept me going was you and the thought that maybe we could have something that’s all ours, just you and me, something nobody can ever touch.”

“You…want me?” Kevin asked. He swallowed. “Still?”

“Course I do,” Johnny answered, looking confused. Then, speaking slowly as though he was afraid Kevin hadn’t understood him the first time, he repeated: “I love you.”

Kevin let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said. “Look, I won’t talk like that anymore if you don’t want. Here, I’ll go get you something to eat, you’re prolly—”

“Wait,” Kevin said, grabbing the other man’s arm, “wait, please, sit with me a minute?”

Johnny settled back into the cushion, looking at him. “Sure.”

Kevin turned and wrapped his arms around Johnny, burying his face against the coarse overalls. Johnny hugged him without hesitation, looping his arms loosely around Kevin’s bony frame. Kevin tried to say the words, tried to tell Johnny that he loved him, too, but the declaration wouldn’t leave his throat. He could feel his anxiety sliding away, though. Johnny had always made him feel safe, even when the odds were stacked against them both.

And even knowing everything about Kevin, even now when they were back in the real world, Johnny still wanted him, still loved him.

Kevin lifted his face, barely aware of the tears glistening on his cheeks, and brushed his lips against Johnny’s. Johnny’s hands came up to frame Kevin’s face, thumbs swiping away the cooling tears even as Johnny kissed him in return, and Kevin felt the final weight of uncertainty slip from his shoulders. He let his arms tighten around Johnny, let himself relax into the contact, and drew a deep breath through his nose.

He could smell Johnny’s sweat and deodorant, and grease from his coveralls, and the alluring scent of simmering pot roast, and a single thought filled his mind.

_This is home._


End file.
